Human Flaw: Johnlock
by Katniss of Asgard
Summary: This is the story of Sherlock and John Watson. It is an alternative versions of the adventures of Sherlock where he solves his many crimes but also realizes a human flaw that he has no control over: love (or maybe lust). RATED M: FOR MATURE, has touchy subjects like smut, bdsm, rape, gore, violence, lemon, ect. Read at own risk


"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?" the confused reporter asked blindy. The inspector said the took the same poison and were all found in places there had no real reason to be… None of them knew eachother. He understands they are linked but is unaware of any link yet that connects them… Ugh Ordinary people. I take out my factory made cellular device and send a mass message to every phone in the room with the word _wrong_. It is actually quite amusing because it looks like the detectives are unable to process my simple message.

"If you've all got texts, please ignore them," said the woman next to the inspector named Donovan.

"It just says wrong," a reporter says questionably.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that. Ok, if there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end."

Another reporter speaks up in question to my text, "But if they're suicides what are you investigating?" The inspector took a deep breathe and eyed the crowd catiously,

"These suicides are clearly linked… Um, it's an unusual situation. We've got our best people investigating…"

I let out a soft sigh and resend my mass message again, hearing the buzz of alert the ignorant pubic. The first reporter acknowledges my message.

"One more question," the woman detective, says.

"Is it any chance these are murders, and if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?"

The puzzled inspector had no perfect reply, he said how the media prefers to write about these sort of things (which is true) but he will not believe that it could be murder, "clearly the poison was self-administered," he sighs.

Another reporter asks how to keep themselves safe and he replies sarcastically not to commit murder. They exchange a few words and then try and falsely reassure the people of this room that they are as safe as they want to be… I send out another mass text in disappointment as if my words were unimportant. I send another text to the Inspector himself:

_You know where to find me._

_SH_

He looks clearly embarrassed and puts the phone away, examining the room but missing my existence. I bet they'd love to know how to hack the wireless signals, oh the fun of showing off brilliance.

I leave inconspicuously and arrive to St Bartholomew's hospital Morgue where Molly Hooper, the over sensitive and obnoxiously clingy Pathologist, allows me to examine a body.

"How fresh?" I ask, gleaming at the skin as she walks around the table replies confidently,

"Just in, sixty-seven, natural causes. He use to work here, I knew him. He was nice."

I zip up the body bag again and straighten my posture while turning to her and giving a false smile, "We'll start with the riding crop."

She takes the body out of the bag and is placed on its back on a table. Molly leaves and I begin to feel a rush of anger as I violently hit the corpse. I hear the door open and ignore it while hearing a lustful sigh. I roll my eyes when I hear her voice begin.

"Bad day was it?" I ignore her chance of small talk and write in a notebook laid on the desk while speaking, "I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi is on it. Text me."

I suddenly hear her needy voice echo in my ears again, "Listen, I was wondering.." she sighs, "Maybe later, when you're finished…" I scream internally and examine her quickly, getting only two glances in between my writing and give a slight frown while interrupting her, "Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing any lipstick before." Obviously nervously caught she tries to speak again but I remain still and emotionless,

"I… refreshed it a bit," she said while giving a lustful smile and longing look before writing again in her notebook. I see her as utterly desperate if she is trying to impress a sociopath and turn my head lightly away, "Sorry, you were saying?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee.." I put the notebook down and turn to her with a swift reply before dashing as fast as I possibly could, "Black two sugars, please, I'll be upstairs."

I open the door the labatory and begin experimenting substances in a Petri dish. I hear a knock on the door and Mike enters with a confused looking man. I examine the man quickly and see he is limping before I go back to working. The man says how the room looks different than since the last time he saw it, a joke is made and I ask to barrow Mike's phone, "there's no signal on mine."

"What's wrong with the landline?"

I sigh, "I prefer to text." He apologizes saying how it was left in his coat and I hear a voice speak and I turn to see the solider offer his to me.. Charming fellow.

"It's an old friend of mine, John Watson," Mike says. I walk toward John and take his phone typing quickly as I try to make small talk, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" John looks somewhat confused and Mike sends a knowing smile. I continue to type when I hear the man speak again, "Sorry?"

"Which one was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Afghanistan, sorry how di you—"

I turn to see Molly coming in the room with coffee, "Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you," I shut the phone and hand it back to John as Molly hands me the mug. I take a quick look at her as she exchanges the mug over to me, her mouth is shaky and pale, ""What happen to the lipstick?"

"It wasn't working for me.." she shyly replies.

"Really I thought it was a real improvement," I speak softer and walk away taking sip from the bitterly made coffee, "You're mouth's too small now."

I hear her reply cautiously as she leaves quickly and I speak out loud, hoping to try small talk again with the man called John Watson, "How do you feel about the violin?" Part of me thinks he would love _my violin playing._ Maybe he would love me.

I think John realized I was talking to him and he looked toward me saying, "I'm sorry, what?"

"I play violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end," I glance at John as I eye the room, "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other," I say with a cheekly amusing smile but only see a blank expression on his face. John asks Mike if I was told about him and I smirk at this remark because he does not understand my full self yet.

"Who said anything about flatmates?"

"I did!" I say turning to them as I pick up my thick, collared peacoat, "Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for… Now here he is, just after lunch with an old friend, clearly home from military service. Wasn't that a difficult leap?"

Still confused he asks me again while I slip my coat on, "How _did_ you know about Afghanistan?" I ignore the question from this innocently admiring man and wrap my scarf around my neck. I check my phone quickly giving a sly smile as I walk toward him, "Got an eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash," I give a lustful smirk as I try to read his reaction to my next sentence, "I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." His eyes flicker slightly and I put my phone away, making note of the slight movement he thought about me with a riding crop. I let a small smirk escape my lips at this thought until I hear John try and call me back, "Is that it?"

Of course that is it, ordinary people are so questionable, "is that what?"

"We've only just met and we're gonna go look at a flat?"

I smile back, "Problem?"

"We don't know anything about eachother; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know you name!"

I examine him again, trying to find a way to see that flicker of amusement in his eyes again, "I know you're an army doctor and you've been invalidated home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic;" I take a breath realizes this could be harsh and wouldn't impress him but my mind keeps going, "More likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid and also confused sexually but that is matter to be talked about another day," I say closing my examination. I may of gone too far but then again, he reads as a curious individual. John looks awkwardly at the floor like a love sick puppet. Love is a wasted emotion. So flawed. It shows human weakness in seconds: the ability to wrap someone around your finger with just the mask of an emotion. Ordinary humans are such flawed creatures... So venerable. I have to know if my theory of human flaws applies to every type of person.. Ordinary or _not. I fear I could also become flawed._

I decide to test a theory of human flaw and give him an innocent peak on the cheek before leaving with a wink, "My name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon." I leave silently and hear John speak shocked as if I was gone completely, "Did he just kiss me?"

"Yea he's always like that… Well. Actually, you're the first he was like that too."

I smile and exit the building only dreaming of the confliction of feeling the closest case must be feeling. Emotions are such a weird thing.

I take the next few hours packing my things into the Baker street flat and then wait for John's arrival by traveling in taxi. I arrive once again and see John at the door, I exit the taxi and greet him, "Hello."

John turns toward me and gives an awkward smile, "Ah, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please," I say with a half smile before shaking his still hand.

"Well, this is a prime spot, must be expensive."

I give a soft laugh, "Oh Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, is giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor, A few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida, I was able to help out."

Quite surprised, he looked at me and apologized briefly, "Sorry, you stopped her husband from being executed?"

I give a half cheeky smile before opening the door and say, "Oh no, I ensured it."

The door opens before my grasp and Mrs. Hudson greets me warmly with a tight embrace, "Sherlock hello!" I let go of her hug and gesture her to my new _friend, "_Mrs. Hudson, John Watson." She says hello and gestures us inside, we go inside and I lead up the stairs while Mrs. Hudson is closing the front door. I reach the top and notice my pace was quicker than the hobbling John so I wait before opening the door. Once he is next to me I open the door to our flat revealing our living room, he follow me and looks around the room at all the possessions and boxes neatly stacked in piles all across the room.

"Well, this could be very nice," he says, looking around the room I organized, "very nice indeed." Embarrassed, I start to move folders into boxes and papers into folders while he tries to muddle up a sentence, I stab a knife in the mantle and make an awkward smile in the process,

"Well, obviously, I can, um, straighten things up a bit," I said halfheartedly. John looks away from me and toward a specimen on my mandle,

"That's a skull?"

I taste the word skull and rephrase it, "Friend of mine… When I say _friend," I say trailing off into my own thoughts._

Suddenly, my inner thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Hudson's intoxicatingly droning voice, "What do you think, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be _needing_ two bedrooms," I try not to make any sudden moves in reaction to her statement and just glance at John for his response.

"Of _course_ we'll be needing two…" he says as I swallow hard wishing he made no such reponse. Mrs. Hudson starts to ramble on about how Mrs. Turner next door as she exits our flat (temporarily I suppose) got married lovers and I can feel John's hungry eyes on me asking to validate that there is nothing between him and I. Instead of confirming him, I played oblivious.

"I looked you up on the internet last night," John said causing me to raise an eye brow as I turn to his awkward straight face.

"Anything interesting?" I say with a wink. He said he found my marvelous website, the Science of Deduction. A proud persona is sprawled across my face and I ask him what he thinks about it. He throws a face of annoyance my way and my smirk turns into a disappointed frown.

"Yes; I can read your military career in your face and your leg and your brother's drinking habits by your mobile phone," and why you find it so easy to trust me.

"How?"

"Human flaw."

"Really," he drags out in a somewhat long way. My mind became suddenly too human and I thought.. Realized my flaw has deepened. Was it the way I screamed danger? Do I not scream danger enough? Or am I too dangerous? Perhaps it is just because I am human. _John has a soft spot for things that scream danger._

"Flaw?" he says with a confused face. Emotions are a deep flaw every human is said to have, if this is true then the theory of Human Flaw means my I am unfortunately venerable. I found myself inching closer and I grabbed my hair in rage of trying to neglect my too human of emotions. I backed up noticing my feet have placed me inches from John, "You trust me don't you John, out of everyone in your life trust someone like me?"

"Yes… But" he struggles then screams, "Sherlock!"

I open my eyes and see my body has placed my palms against the wall with John between it and my body. No more inches, our bodies were all touching expect by the faces. I looked into his eyes that were mere inches away from me and I didn't want to move, "Sherlock! What in gods name are you doing?"

"I'm flawed John!" I scream in his face, hitting the wall but remaining at the same distance.

"What are you saying? Flawed?"

"I-I have a flaw... For you. Think about it for gods sake"

"A flaw... Sherlock The only flaw is how uncomfortably close you are to me- Me? Sherlock... I'm not.. Gay."

"Oh please, your hair is always groomed, you have the style of sub-gay male, you struggle to give clear responses when people ask if you could be gay. John you are a close case by all definitions and I can prove it!"

I felt a sharp nudge as John looked angrily in my eyes, "Sherlock. Move."

I stretched my neck and gave a sarcastic _ok_, moving my face closer to his to test my theory. I had a 30% chance he would push me away with full force but most of me believed he would just stay still. He didn't move actually, he opened his jaw and accepted the exchange of my lips to his. I had another guess he would either realize what he's done and push me away or become the flawed putty humans are made to be.

He didn't push so I lightly grabbed his face in my hands and continued to let my lips fight with his, and none if it was forced. He fully knew what he was doing and he was letting it happen. Suddenly, his hands grasped into my hair and I felt faint tugs tangle intertwine with his fingertips. I let go of his lips and give a soft smirk as a way to say my theories are mostly always (98%) never wrong.

"What have I done..." John mumbled, fingers still locked in my hair.

I sighed, "Human weakness," with a full smirk and persona I never felt... This feeling is odd but I kind of... Enjoy it. Also, it is appalling at the same time but I want more.

John tried to find the words to say, "I- I don't know what came over me."

"Oh for god's sake.. You're in even more denial then a young school boy," I took his hands out of my hair and pin his arms against the wall as the lightest touch of my lips tickled by his ear, "Tell me to stop."

I breathe in the nervous air around his neck, he is breathing hard yet he doesn't move or make a sound. I dip my head into his neck and lightly kiss it while grasping tighter on his palms. I felt a rush of emotions like I never felt before and the fabric on my pants tightened up and I became utterly confused and unaware of these emotions. Overwhelming, this feeling of human flaw is… Overwhelming. I look down and see his face shocked and glazed in front of my eyes.

W-why Um…You stopped?"

"Oh! I was unaware of _this feeling_ could affect me…" This changes all my theory completely.

"S-Sherlock…" I looked up and saw John shaking and nervously staring back at me, his face read intoxicated but it was all according to my theory. Suddenly, he did the thing I was not expecting. He kissed me back. No, he kissed me with passion… yes, passion. Hat feeling of too much love or lust, and grabbed my face between his still palms and softly kissed me. The flaw in my breaches tightened and I gasped softly trying to understand why this was happening. I am not like ordinary people so why am I feeling like this? I continued to let his lips fight with me until I hear the door opened and I hear a yell from the doorway, "What in- Sherlock, what are you doing?" I thought for sure I scream homosexual… Or Asexual. Maybe that is why he is shocked.

I look up and see Gavin, no Gerry.. Um. Gharnam. I see _whats-his-name_... Seeing John's body under mine and his touch on my... _exposed skin._John reacts rather shocked as if he just committed murder and was caught in the act. He has a thing for sociopaths. I smirk with a rush of confidence, looking at the inspector straight in the eyes, "Proving the theory of human flaws.. Gavin?"

"Oh for god's sake. It's Greg."

* * *

**Hi! Well, I hope you liked it so far... I have a lot planned.. I'm basically making Sherlock (the BBC show) into a written work with a Johnlock paring/ strong smut also (along with some other ones because fandoms...)**

**But I hope you liked it so far, give me comments/ reviews and let me know what you think of it. :) -KO**


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